It's so fucked up. I am so tired of being who others expect me to be. It's not something new or unique to me. Others have suffered as they pretended their way through life. But I fear that to hide myself now will ultimately lead to my destruction.

When my name is mentioned people say it with hope or hatred. Hope that I will rid them from the evil Voldemort. Hatred that I beat Voldemort once already, and am destined to do so again. Even those most close to me fall into these pitfalls. I am sat upon a pedestal and that means no one can ever understand, since they believe me to be so different. I am not.

I used to have nightmares about the monsters under my bed. Doesn't everyone? Only mine turned out to be real, for the most part. I feel emotions like everyone else. Sadness, hope, hate, and even love. I love very easily, which can be a blessing or a curse. I have yet to decide which I think it is. One thing is for certain, if anyone ever did find out who I love, they would think I hit my head practicing quidditch. Because I, Harry Potter, am in love with Draco Malfoy.